"Ah, yes. The guilt one feels over living their day-to-day life comfortably because someone else has it worse than them. The guilt of being fed and alive because somewhere out there, someone else is going without. The guilt of surviving and maybe even thriving where the wind has led you and let you take root, because someone else is somewhere less advantageous. It's very commonplace, you know, too commonplace, yet at the same time maybe not commonplace enough." He says this all calmly, not breaking his gaze away from Johnny.

"It's a bit of a tricky predicament, isn't it? Too much guilt, and you start depriving yourself, but too little causes you to lose touch. And of course, there's the little issue of you being so intelligent, Mr. Summer. You think about things. You can't help but think about things, and so the wheels in your head keep turning, turning, turning, faster and faster and faster, not giving you a moment to breathe. You hate yourself for what you have now, in part because you know someone out there is suffering for it, and in part because you know what your old self would have given to have what you have now- really, what your old self gave to earn a fraction of what you have now. One has to wonder if you'd even be able to sleep at night, without a lover's embrace."

Sheogorath takes another sip of his drink, his attention shifting. A shimmer of gold creeps back into his eyes.

"Strange how we're so grounded by others. One moment, we're an island unto ourselves, bracing for the storm, and the next we're sheltering in the arms of someone warm and present and arguably real. Why, I'm a god, and even I need a moment with my Husband every now and again. Such a sweet, empathetic, unremarkable, terribly mortal man, he is. And it's wonderful. Think about it, a god, a fundamental aspect of the Aurbis itself, reassured by a loving physician who is one step removed from being absolutely nothing! Isn't that absurd? Isn't that mad? Isn't that beautiful?"